Derek's Sweater
by halesburned
Summary: Derek's sweater is missing. His favourite sweater. Okay, maybe it's his only sweater and nothing really special, but it was warm and loose and cosy. Perfect. And it's missing.


Derek's sweater is missing.

His FAVOURITE sweater.

Okay, maybe it's his only sweater and nothing really special, but it was warm and loose and cosy. Perfect.

And it's missing.

He knew where he left it; on his bed after he'd taken it off to shower. But after he'd gotten out, it was gone. There were no unusual scents in his room, it smelled of Stiles from where he'd taken a nap in there earlier, exhausted from research, Derek and come from last night's jerk off session.

After two hours of searching the loft high and low for his sweater, Derek gave up with a huff and went to sleep.

Maybe he just didn't deserve nice things.

Two weeks later, his sweater was still missing and he'd pretty much given up on trying to find it. The replacement sweater was no good; it itched and was too tight on his arms.

But there are more important things to worry about than a sweater, like the new monster in town. A succubus was killing local men, had already killed five people with no signs of stopping, which is why he's at Stiles' window at three in the morning.

Swinging his legs over the ledge, scowl in place, the last thing he expected to find was Stiles asleep.

In his missing sweater.

Stiles was curled on top of his covers in his boxers and Derek's sweater, one hand clenching at the fabric covered his chest. His face was lax, long eyelashes just touching his cheeks and looking more young and relaxed Derek had seen him since the nogistune. To Derek's understanding, Stiles still had trouble sleeping. But now, Stiles looked peaceful. Sound asleep with his mouth open and snoring softly.

As if aware he was being stared at, Stiles twitched slightly and his heart started to pick up. Suddenly he gasped and was upright in a second, eyes focusing on Derek in the shadows. The sweater slid down his shoulder as he shifted, exposing his neck and collarbone. Derek wanted to BITE, felt his fangs itch with the need.

"Derek?" Stiles's voice was husky with sleep, but coloured with confusion.

YES, Derek wanted to say. Wanted to ask if he was alright. "Give it back." Is what came out.

Stiles clutched at the sweater desperately, "No!" He explained, tone guilty but unweidling.

Derek growled. "It's mine. Give it back."

Stiles's eyes glistened with tears as he begged, "No, please. Get another one. I'll get you another one."

"No way."

"Please. It helps me sleep," Stiles admitted quietly, "Since the nogistine I can't sleep- you know that. Memories and nightmares and- and," he hiccuped mid-sentence, tears starting to fall down his cheeks as he babbled hysterically. " This makes me think of you and I feel safe and I can FINALLY sleep and I promise, I'll get you a new one. We can share! Please, just-" Stiles was cut off, his mouth squished against Derek's shoulder as he hugged the teen.

"It's okay, Stiles, you can keep the sweater, " he crooned, rubbing the younger man's back, "It's fine, just stop crying. Everything's fine." Stiles hiccuped again, but his tears had stopped. He was still clutching Derek tightly.

After a few moments Derek pulled away, and Stiles rubbed at his eyes smelling embarrassed but no longer sad. He mumbled something, but it was so low even Derek's werewolf hearing couldn't pick it up.

"What?" Stiles' cheeks coloured, and he pushed away from Derek quickly, beginning to look upset again.

"Nevermind, it was a stupid idea and-"

"Stiles!" Derek cut Stiles off, sighing. "I didn't hear you, what did you say before?"

"Oh." Stiles cleared his throat, twisting his hands into the hem of his - DEREK'S - sweater nervously. "I asked if you'd stay. Here. Tonight."

OH. Derek let out a whoosh of air in surprise. "Just until I fall asleep," Stiles added quickly, not meeting the older man's eyes.

"Okay."

A brief smile lit up Stiles' face until it faded suddenly. "You don't have to, if you don't want to. I mean I understand-" This time Derek cut off Stiles by placing a hand over his mouth.

Leaning forward, Derek looked straight into Stiles's eyes, letting him see the sencerity in them. "I want to. I wouldn't say yes if I didn't." Stiles nodded, showing he understood. Letting him free, Derek moved to take off his shoes and jeans as Stiles got shifted around and got comfortable.

Stiles lay on his side, facing away from him. He stilled slightly when Derek got into the bed, but relaxed when Derek made no move to touch him. It wasn't long until Stiles relaxed completely and turned to face Derek. He reached out and quickly kissed Derek, his soft lips pressed against Derek's for only a second before murmuring "thanks," and twisting back round.

Letting a smile take over his face, Derek pulled Stiles back to him and buried his face in Stiles' neck. "Anytime," he responded, reveling in feeling Stiles shiver and burrow closer.

Maybe he could have nice things after all.


End file.
